


The Discovery Series

by DC_Derringer



Series: Discovery [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DC_Derringer/pseuds/DC_Derringer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel discovers Destiel fan fiction and believes the writers are correct. Now he must convince Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovering Destiel

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed from his computer. “Dude! Check this out!” Sam was grinning like an idiot, full of glee, and gesturing wildly for Dean to come look at something he’d found on the internet. Dean got his hopes up, thinking it had to be something to help them figure out the stupid apocalypse thing to have Sam quite so excited.

Dean went over to Sam, looked over his shoulder at the computer, and then instantly pulled back, cringing at the website Sam had open.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing on those Supernatural fan sites?”

“Look, I had this idea. Chuck’s been putting out more books online, covering the apocalypse storyline, and he’s almost completely caught up with us.”

“Get to the point, Sammy.”

“The point is, on the fan sites, there are forums where all the fans discuss their predictions about the next books. I thought they might have some good ideas that we would never think of. You know, since they’re outside of it and not ridden by the pressure of having to save the world.”

“OK. So, did you find anything good?”

“Well, no. Not yet. Most of them are still writing nasty Wincest and think that’ll save the world somehow. But I did find something way, way more entertaining,” Sam grinned impishly, clicked on a link and turned the computer back to Dean for him to have a look.

“’Raised from Perdition: A Destiel Fan Site.’ Who’s Destiel? Some other dick angel we get to wrestle with?”

“Scroll down further,” Sam said, barely able to contain his laughter.

Dean rolled his eyes and did as told, scrolling further down the front page to see a drawing of two men tangled in white sheets on a bed, eyes shut in what was clearly post-coital ecstasy. He was about to snap at Sam about being gay, when something struck him about the man on top. He had an anti-possession tattoo on his chest, a golden pendent around his neck, a silver ring on his right hand, and most damning of all, a burning red hand print scarred onto his shoulder. The other man had pearly white wings and a very familiar crop of brown bed-head hair.

“Destiel? Destiel?! Dean and Castiel??? What the Hell is wrong with these people?”

Sam had fallen out of his chair from laughing so hard as Dean’s realization slowly dawned on him and then the horror awoke in his eyes shortly afterwards. “At least,” he gasped between breaths as he tried to stop laughing. “At least it isn’t incest anymore.”

“Oh, like that wasn’t taboo enough? Now they want me screwing an angel of the Lord? Those girls are going to Hell.”

“Hey, I can’t blame them. You two really do have some serious UST.”

“What the Hell is UST? No. I don’t want to know… Just tell me.”

“Unresolved sexual tension.”

“Dude, that’s gross!”

“I read an essay about it this morning. Very convincing. Eye sex. Personal space. Your profound bond. Are you sure you two haven’t already consummated your love without telling me? You don’t have to be afraid, Dean. I’ll accept you for who you are.”

“Blow me, Sam.”

“I think I’ll leave that to Cas.”

Out of words to continue the battle with his all too gleeful younger brother, Dean had nothing else to resort to, and turned on him, wrestling him to the ground and punching him, just to get him to shut up and stop giggling. The two wrangled on the floor for a good long time, leaving each other bruised and panting before Dean was satisfied that Sam had learned his lesson.

Unseen, hovering just around the ceiling of the room was Castiel, who had been witness to the entire scene, starting with when Sam had called Dean over to look at his computer.

~

Castiel did not know a lot about computers, though he was impressed by the invention itself, created and improved constantly by humans over the last few decades. Having no celestial power, it was an amazing tool for humans to access the knowledge of the world.

The night of the incident between Dean and Sam, after the two of them had fallen asleep, Castiel appeared in their room and slid Sam’s laptop out of his leather satchel. Castiel was grateful for his fascination with the machine, as it had led to him watching Sam carefully as he used the tool. He had no trouble opening it to reveal the screen and keyboard, nor any trouble waking the machine up. He was even familiar with the little pictures on the bottom of the screen, and which one to click on to get him to the internet. But when it got to a simple white website that merely said the nonsense word “Google,” he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

He stared at the website, his eyes focusing on the tiny vertical line blinking in a small white box. He looked at the keyboard, with its little printed capital letters that would allow him to make words. Unsure what the result would be, he started pecking a few keys very slowly, making sure he had the order right. When he looked back up at the screen, he was delighted to see that the word “destiel” had appeared in the little white box. 

Castiel waited, but nothing happened. His eyes scanned the website again and found below the white box, another box that said “Search.” That seemed like a good idea, so Castiel clicked on that button, waited half a second, and then his eyes went wide as the website burst forth with a long list of links with his and Dean’s name on them. And there were some pictures, too.

Eyes glued to the screen, Castiel sat before Sam’s computer for hours, the only sound being the quite tap of his finger against the touchpad.

~

The next morning, when Sam and Dean woke up, Sam was annoyed that the battery on his computer was completely drained, and accused Dean of searching for porn all night, despite his genuine denials. Sam didn’t believe him and plugged the computer in to charge while he went to brush his teeth and shower. 

As soon as Sam stepped into the bathroom, Castiel appeared standing right in front of Dean.

Dean took a step back and glared at Castiel for invading his personal space, and then told him a gruff ‘good morning,’ he voice still rough with sleep. Sam gave him a toothpaste-filled ‘hello’ as well.

“Dean, we need to talk,” Castiel said, his voice sounding even more serious than usual. 

“Sure, go ahead,” Dean said, pulling off the t-shirt he’d slept in, and smelling the others in his duffel bag to find one that was relatively clean. 

“Last night I used the internet to read Destiel fan fiction.”

Dean froze, his hand clamped around a t-shirt that had passed the sniff test, and was then being subjected to the stain once over. He looked up at Castiel, words caught in his throat as the horror of his discovery the day before came back to life, now worse than before.

“I think those authors might be correct,” Castiel continued when Dean still hadn’t said anything.

“SAAAAM!” Dean suddenly bellowed, turning around to the open bathroom door where Sam had paused in brushing his teeth, also frozen by Castiel’s words. But when he heard Dean’s yell he very quickly closed the door, locked it, and then turned on the shower.

“Sorry! Can’t hear you! Shower’s running!” Sam called out through the door.

“Coward…” Dean murmured to himself, knowing he was going to make Sam pay for this whole damn disaster that was about to strike their motel room. Slowly, he turned back to Castiel, who was looking at him with an expectant look in his eyes.

“OK,” Dean said, rubbing his face hard. “Let’s get one thing straight. Those authors? Are crazy, sex-deprived, delusional virgins with way too much free time.”

“But they-“

“Let me finish. These are the same people who think me and Sam are going at it like wild dingoes, despite the fact that we. Are. Brothers.”

“Yes, but-“

“Not done yet. So these authors, having nothing but Chuck’s terrible hack writing to go on, and having never met you or me in their entire lives, are trying to say that I am secretly in love with an angel of the Lord and want to bang his brains out without realizing it? You really think this might be correct?”

“Of course not. Their blatant disregard for your past history of hetero-normative sexual practices with multiple women is baffling.”

“See? Now let’s just forget about this whole “Destiel” garbage and move on with our lives.”

“But I was referring to myself when I said they were correct.”

“Huh?” Dean said.

“Many of the authors predict that our profound bond may be my way of expressing romantic love, an emotion I have never experienced before. It explains my desire to be closer to you than I am with Sam, my inability to resist when you pray to me, even though Sam is much more polite, the intense fascination I have that results in staring at you, and the happiness I feel when you are close to me. It seems that through Chuck’s inept writing, these authors have discovered meaning behind my actions that even I was unaware of.”

“Cas. Really, I don’t think you should be listening to some crazy girls-“

“Shut up, Dean. I am not finished speaking.”

Dean shut up, swallowing hard at Castiel’s stern voice.

“I am in love with you, Dean Winchester. I want to spend time with you. I want to talk with you. I want to be close to you. I want to touch you.”

“Cas…”

“I am still not finished. I understand from the fan fiction that you will be reluctant to respond to my romantic advances. So I will give you time to think about what I’ve said. I will not bother you until then.”

Castiel left as soon as he said those words, disappearing in the blink of an eye with the faint sound of fluttering wings seeing him off. Dean was frozen in place for a moment, and then he dashed over to the bathroom door, banging on it fiercely.

“Sam! I am going to kill you! I am going to kill you so much!”

“Shower’s still running. Lala. Can’t hear you. Be out in a few hours…” Sam sang back through the door.

~

Two days passed with no sign of Castiel, which had Dean both relieved and concerned. Sam had at least finally gotten over his giggles about Castiel’s love confession and was taking the ramifications more seriously. Especially since Dean punched him in the arm every time he so much as smiled. 

“So…” Sam started as they sat in their motel room the evening of the second day.

“Shut up,” Dean said, not turning his attention away from the TV.

“We need to talk about this,” Sam said.

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes. We do,” Sam said, exasperated already. “Cas isn’t coming back until you… you know…”

“Say ‘I love you too, pookie. Let’s get our hot gay man love on in the Impala’? That’s not gonna happen, Sammy.”

“You don’t have to say you love him, but you do need to give him some kind of answer.”

“Personally, I prefer ignoring the entire situation until we’re ass deep in demons, and then Cas has to come back and save us. Then I’m just going to pretend the whole thing never happened and we can just be friends again.”

“Dean,” Sam said, the one word emphasized by what Dean called his ‘bitchface.’

“Sam,” Dean said right back him, imitating the tone and bitchface perfectly.

“Fine. If you won’t call him, I will. Cas!” Sam suddenly called out, his eyes turned to the ceiling. “Cas, you need to get down here. Dean wants to talk to you!”

“Shh! Sam, shut up!” Dean said, rising from his seat in a panic and rushing to Sam, hoping to shut him up. Sam kept out of reach, still calling Castiel’s name, until Dean tackled him to the floor and found a dirty sock to shove in his mouth while he held him down. He kept his eyes darting around the room in case the angel made his appearance.

After a few minutes, with Castiel still not showing up, Dean got off his brother, and let him stand again. Sam spat out the sock and looked as indignant as possible, though he was also disappointed that Castiel hadn’t shown up. 

“Nice try, bitch.”

“Whatever, jerk. I’m going out. Maybe Cas will show up after I leave,” he said, throwing a prayer in for good measure to let Cas know he’d be out of the room.

Sam stormed out of the motel room, annoyed by his stubborn, emotionally stunted brother, turned the corner around the motel that would take him to the main drag, and walked right into Castiel.

“Hello, Sam.” 

“Cas,” Sam said with a smile. “You came.”

“Yes. I heard your prayer, but thought it was best not to appear before Dean.”

“Yeah. He still doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s all right. I wanted to talk to you anyway. In the fan fiction, you always give good advice about Dean.”

“Cas,” Sam said with a sigh. “You’re taking this fan fiction stuff pretty seriously, but, you know, it’s not real.”

“I am aware,” Castiel said, looking just a little bit annoyed. “If I thought all of it was real, then I would expect Dean to jump into my arms fully erect after a short bout of ‘eye sex.’ But some authors have grasped a genuine understanding of our personalities and come up with reasonable reactions to non-existent scenarios based on previous knowledge. Ergo, I do not think it is too hard to believe that you, his own brother, could give me good advice about Dean.”

“Well, OK, that part would be true…” Sam conceded, his mind still stuttering around the image of Dean jumping into Castiel’s arms. “But Dean’s straight, Cas. No matter what the fan girls imagine.”

“That does seem to be a significant roadblock in reality. Are you sure Dean has not engaged in any bi-curious activities in the past that he might have kept secret from you out of embarrassment and perceived reprisal from his father?”

“Uhm, yes. Pretty sure.”

“I was hoping for that to be an unusually perceptive insight into his character,” Castiel murmured to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Castiel said quickly. “But that brings me to another problem of whether my love will be returned, or unrequited. I am not so certain that Dean’s feelings for me are more than just friendship and brotherhood.”

“I’m not sure either,” Sam said. “I mean, yeah, you two stare at each other a lot, and that profound bond thing you mentioned once. But I’m not sure if that leads to, uh, you know… Gay sex and stuff,” Sam mumbled out, blushing with embarrassment.

Castiel also blushed brightly, and started giving the asphalt of the parking lot the sort of intense stare he usually reserved for Dean. “Though the fan fiction covers that aspect of a relationship in great, explicit detail,” Castiel said with a cough, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had not even considered that a possibility with Dean. The most I was hoping for was a date.”

“A date? That’s it? What about all that stuff you mentioned about touching and stuff?”

“I would like to hold hands on our date, if Dean will let me,” Castiel said with a blush.

Sam was reminded of Castiel’s innocence when it came to romantic relationships, relieved in some sense that the fan fiction hadn’t made too big of an impression on him, and then also saddened by the small, simple thing that Castiel wanted in return for his love of Dean. The feeling burned as determination inside Sam, and he made the decision that he would help Castiel get his one date with Dean, maybe with hand holding, no matter what Dean had to say about the matter.

“Cas, I think if it’s just one date, no promise on the hand holding, I might be able to help you out,” Sam said, his mind already working on a scheme that would surely open his brother’s forcefully shut eyes, and make him respond to Castiel in some fashion.

“Really?” Castiel asked, his eyes widening with hope behind them.

“Yes, now, here’s my plan…”

~

A few days later, Sam and Dean were ass deep in demons. They’d been investigating a haunting in an old abandoned warehouse, only to discover that the haunting was a ruse created by a group of four demons who were in it for the kicks. Finding Sam and Dean in their midst, the brothers with a huge bounty on their heads, the demons squealed with delight and went right for a vicious attack, taking the Winchesters by complete surprise.

Lacking devil traps, holy water, or even Ruby’s knife, and well out-muscled, the brothers made a mad dash through the warehouse, hoping to make It through the door and toward the precious supplies hidden away in the Impala’s trunk. No such luck.

The bitchy looking female demon with the long blonde hair in a ponytail cut them off, and with a wave of her hand, sent them crashing through a metal shelf. The brothers collected themselves quickly and kept running.

“Over there!” Sam shouted, pointing to a half open door. The two dashed inside, slammed the door shut behind them, and threw down a line of salt to keep the demons from blowing the door down. They took in their surroundings and found they were in a small, windowless, office.

“Well, this is just great,” Dean groused, his back still pushed against the door as he listened to the demons outside, shrieking and taunting them. The salt would keep them out, for sure, but how long could Dean and Sam stay inside?

“Cas! We could really use your help about now!” Dean yelled out, annoyed that he even had to call on the angel when he usually just appeared when they had demons on their tail. But there was no blinding light through the cracks in the door, and no agonized screams from the demons on the other side as the evil was burned out of them with holy fire.

“Cas! Four demons. About to kill us. We’re in a tight spot man. What’re you doing? Picking your nose up there?” Dean’s eyes searched the ceiling as he yelled out for the angel, but still nothing happened.

“What gives?” he asked, looking to his brother, who was also looking at the ceiling, looking disappointed.

“Looks like we have to figure our own way out,” Sam said, and started looking around the dusty office, checking a bookshelf covered in forgotten papers, shifting a chair around, and checking under a desk, desperate for anything.

“…ass deep in demons…” Sam could hear Dean muttering to himself, and he had to bite back a small grin. Things were a little too heavy at the moment. He stood up and shoved a metal filing cabinet away from the wall, and allowed himself a small smile of relief.

“Air vent,” he said quietly to Dean, and Dean was on it. It was too small for Sam to fit through, but just big enough for Dean.

“I’ll get the supplies from the Impala and be back in 5 minutes. Wait till you hear screaming before you break the line, OK Sammy?”

Sam nodded, and gave Dean a helpful shove into the vent. Mostly unnecessary, but it was also to make sure his hand was covering the angelic symbols carved into the side of the vent, one that would keep Dean invisible to the demons while he was inside it.

Ten minutes later the demons were exorcised, and four very confused people were heading back to their families, with complimentary anti-possession mojo bags around their necks as parting gifts from the Winchesters.

“What the Hell, dude?” Dean groused as he slammed the trunk of the Impala shut.

“What, what the Hell?” Sam asked.

“Cas. He never showed. He always shows when we’re ass deep in demons.”

“Well, yeah, but he’s probably mad at you,” Sam said. He got into the Impala and buckled in. Dean got in after him and gave him a confused look.

“What is he mad at me for?”

“Because he confessed his love to you and you haven’t responded.”

“Uh, yeah, because I don’t love him.”

“That doesn’t matter. You still need to talk to him. He poured his heart out to you and he’s waiting for an answer.”

“Wait,” Dean said, eyeing his brother suspiciously. “Have you talked to Cas since then?”

“Yes,” Sam said, suddenly looking out the window and twisting a lock of his hair nervously.

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing, nothing really…” Sam said, still not looking at his brother.

“No, he told you something. What’d he tell you?”

“Just that he wants… Well, it doesn’t matter. You’d never do it anyway, so forget it. Let’s just go back to the motel,” Sam said, turning back to his brother with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Just tell me what he wants,” Dean said gruffly, getting annoyed by Sam’s roundabout conversation.

“A date, Dean. He just wants to go on a date.”

“No way,” Dean said quickly. He started the car and stared intently at the road as he drove them back to the motel.

“It’s not like he’s going to start groping you the second you get into the car,” Sam said, exasperated.

“Gross. I don’t even want to think about that.”

“I’m just telling you what he told me. He wants to have a date. The very least you could do is call him and talk to him.”

Dean grumbled, low and deep in his throat, a sneer curling his lip. “Fine,” he growled. “But you are not getting a front row seat this time. When we get back to the motel, you go find some coffee shop to drink mocha-latte girl drinks in.”

Sam sighed with relief and smiled genuinely for the rest of the car ride home.

~

Back at the motel room, Sam left Dean alone, giving him a double thumbs up as he ducked out the door, closing it quickly when Dean lobbed a boot at him. Dean sighed, rubbing his fingers hard over the bridge of his nose as he was certain he felt a headache coming on just from thinking about the conversation he was going to have with Castiel in just a moment.

“Cas,” he said after a big sigh. “I hope you’re not in trouble, wherever you are. Could you come talk for a minute?”

“I’m here, Dean,” Castiel said from behind him. Dean turned around slowly to look at the angel, as usual in his oversized trench coat and rumpled suit. His hair disheveled, and his cheeks carrying a day’s growth of beard.

“Why didn’t you come earlier?”

“I assessed the situation from where I was, and deemed you and Sam were capable of handling the four demons alone,” Castiel said. Of course, the only reason he was able to say that was because he’d covered the whole warehouse in sigils to help keep the Winchesters safe. Otherwise, he would have never left them so vulnerable. It was the only way he would agree to Sam’s plan. “Also, I did not want to see you until we had discussed our previous topic of conversation.”

Dean cursed in his head that Sam had been right about why Castiel hadn’t shown. He was starting to wish Cas HAD been in trouble, instead of just, this. Dean sat down on the couch. He needed to sit down for this conversation. Castiel remained standing, looking at him intently.

“OK. Let’s discuss our previous topic of discussion,” Dean said wearily.

“Do you have a reply to my confession?”

Leave it to Castiel to get right down to the conversation, without any dancing around, when all Dean wanted to do was skirt around the topic, and stutter out some non-sense that no one would understand anyway.

“Yeah, I have a reply, but Cas, I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Dean said, and knew immediately that he was right when Castiel’s face fell a little bit, and disappointment filled his eyes.

“I suspected that you would not return my feelings, no matter how much time I gave you to think about it. But I was wondering if you would do me one favor,” Castiel lifted his eyes again, and Dean saw a small glimmer of hope there. He tensed though, knowing exactly what Castiel was going to ask for, and now glad that Sam had given him a head’s up about it before-hand.

“Yeah. I can do you a favor. What is it?”

“I would like to have a date with you.”

“A date?” Dean asked, trying to act surprised when he heard Castiel’s request.

“I promise I will not ‘try anything,’” Castiel said, using finger quotes. 

“Uhm, well, you better not. But a date? Cas, I don’t feel that way about you.”

“I know. But, I would like to experience a date with you just once, and then you can just forget the whole matter. I will never bring it up again.”

“So, just a date? Like, dinner together?”

“And a movie,” Castiel added quickly. “It is the American date standard.”

“And no touching or… anything, right?”

“None! I promise,” Castiel said, his eyes starting to light up with hope.

Dean looked warily at the angel standing before him, his eyes wide, innocent, and hopeful. He looked like a sad, hungry, lonely puppy, locked outside in the middle of a rainstorm, and Dean felt like he was in a position to either kick the puppy to the curb, or bring him inside.

“Fine,” he said, like the word was dragged from his lips against his will. “But I’m driving. I pick the restaurant, and I pick the movie. Clear?”

“Oh yes, Dean,” Castiel said, pleasure sweeping over his face when he heard Dean’s acquiescence, even with its limitations. “Thank you. You have made me very happy. Can we go on our date tonight?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said after a slight hesitation. “Better to get it over with, I guess.”

“Yes. Oh, and one more thing?”

“What?”

“Can we hold hands on our date?”

“Dude,” Dean glared at him. “If you’re going to be gay about this, the date is totally off.”

“OK,” Castiel said, but his face didn’t darken even in the slightest. He was going on a real, live date with the man he loved. He was the happiest angel in all of creation.


	2. Discovering Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel got Dean to agree to one, wonderful, perfect date, and that was all he wanted. But when Dean continues taking him out, just to hang, the tension starts to drive Castiel crazy.

Castiel’s date with Dean had been wonderful. In his mind anyway. After talking with Sam, it was pointed out that the date had in fact been boring. But Castiel couldn’t agree with him.

Dean had taken him to a diner, much like the kind he usually ate at when he had meals with Sam. Castiel had been expecting something different, like a restaurant with table cloths and waiters in clean white shirts, but decided that it didn’t matter where they went for dinner. He was with Dean after all, and that was the most important part.

Dean ordered a burger and fries, and Castiel ordered the meatloaf, not because he needed to eat, or that meatloaf sounded particularly exciting, but so that he could have the full experience of a date by eating with the man he was with.

The rest of the meal consisted of what Sam would have called awkward silence. Castiel knew from the brothers telling him, that he was not good at small talk, so he usually let them lead any conversations. But Dean was not doing much of anything besides eating his food and glancing around the diner cagily every once in awhile. Still, Castiel did not mind. Dean didn’t need to speak. Castiel was fine with being in his company and looking at him.

After dinner, Dean drove them to the movie theater in town and bought two tickets for some movie that had a poster of a grizzled, muscular man leaping out of an exploding helicopter. Castiel was quite certain the man would catch fire and die almost immediately, so he wasn’t sure why Dean wanted to watch it.

Once inside, Dean led them into the theater to sit down. Castiel watched the movie beside Dean, and was confused that the actor in the movie was able to survive a number of injuries and situations that he was sure would kill even a man as amazing as Dean. Dean, though, seemed to be enjoying the movie greatly. He cheered and laughed at the explosions, and watched the screen wide eyed, literally on the edge of his seat as he leaned forward in anticipation. Castiel enjoyed watching him more than he enjoyed watching the movie.

At the end of the night, Dean drove them back to the motel. With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, and not quite looking at Castiel, he said good night, and went into the room he shared with Sam.

Castiel smiled as the door shut behind Dean. Inside, he felt warm and happy and satisfied. He’d spent the whole evening, on a date, alone, with Dean. It was something he never would have dreamed possible, and yet it had just happened. He couldn’t imagine being any happier. He disappeared from the motel parking lot, flying off, almost giddily.

~

Two months later, Castiel was the most miserable angel in all of creation.

Initially, he had been happy when Dean asked him out on a second date. Well, not a date. Dean called it ‘hanging out.’ He said it was nice to go out and do something with someone who wasn’t Sammy for a change. 

So they had gone out for dinner again a week later, and then went to a bar to drink and to talk. And talking had been really nice, Castiel thought. He then wished Dean had talked more on their first date. Even though Dean wasn’t really talking with him, just to him, telling him stories about hunts he’d been on with his father and Sam when he was younger. He said he liked telling Castiel the stories because he’d never heard them before, and Sam always yelled at him for embellishing.

Their third date, Dean had shown him bowling, which thrilled Castiel, because at one point, Dean touched his hand to show him how to hold the ball. The rest of the game seemed silly and pointless, and also put Dean in a bad mood, even though Castiel knocked down all of his pins like he was supposed to. He just held onto the memory of Dean touching his hand.

But then there was a fourth date and a fifth and a sixth, and so many more after that, but nothing else happened. No holding hands, no cuddling, no hands in each other’s pockets, and definitely no kissing. Castiel was starting to go a little crazy.

~

“Cas, I don’t think he knows you’re dating,” Sam said with a small smile as Castiel sat across from him in a small coffee shop where he was doing research on their latest job. Castiel looked frustrated and disgruntled, and Sam imagined, that if he could see Castiel’s wings, they’d be in disarray, ruffled, with feathers sticking out all over the place.

“Then he should stop asking me out on dates,” Castiel said grumpily.

“Why don’t you just put the move on him? He’ll either jump into your arms, or at least realize he’s leading you on and stop it.”

“I cannot. I promised him I would not ‘try anything,’” Castiel said, again using finger quotes.

“You promised that two months ago. You’re allowed to broach a topic again with your partner if you want something to change.”

“But what if he says no?” Castiel asked, looking worried, and Sam realized this was the real concern, not the frustration that Dean wasn’t putting the move on Castiel for some unexplained reason, but that the reason was that he didn’t want to put the move on Castiel at all. That he wasn’t just oblivious about his actions driving Castiel crazy, but that he didn’t care.

“Cas, my bother may be an idiot, but I don’t think he’ll say no.”

“Really?”

“Well, he might say no at first,” Sam said, and when Castiel’s face fell, he added quickly. “But he’ll come around, once he realizes what he’s missing.”

~

Friday night, Castiel showed up early to the motel room where Dean was getting dressed for their date. Sam had already left early, to let them talk alone.

“Hey Cas, ready for some action tonight?” Dean asked, in a chipper mood, as he usually was preceding their dates.

“Very much so,” Castiel said, blushing. After spending so much time with Dean, he had started picking up on pop culture, slang, and double entendres. The double entendres were the most vexing.

“Great! There’s this new action movie out, where they blow up the state of Delaware! The whole damn thing!”

“Dean, can we talk before we go out?” Castiel asked.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“I would like to revisit an agreement we made some months ago.”

“What agreement?”

“The one where I promised not to try anything on our date. I would like to make a revision for the rest of our dates.”

“What ‘rest of?’ I only agreed to the one date, and I did my duty.”

“I am referring to the other ten dates we have been on, and the one we will go on tonight.”

“Those aren’t dates. They’re hanging out,” Dean insisted.

“There is absolutely no difference in what we do from a date. We attend date places, alone, in the evening, and you always pay for me. It IS a date. The only difference is that I have not tried anything because I promised I would not. I would like to take back that promise and move our relationship further.”

“Our… relation- that’s… we don’t…” Dean’s face was a mix of wide-eyed, slack-jawed fear and confusion, tumbled with a knee-jerk furrow of his brows for that touch of anger that was his standard go-to emotion. It was some time before Dean was able to gather his thoughts properly, and Castiel waited patiently, nervous and eager to hear what Dean’s reply was going to be.

“Me and you,” Dean said, switching his finger back and forth quickly between him and Castiel, nervously. “We are not in a relationship. We’ve been hanging out, not going on dates. I like you as a friend, and I want to spend time with you as a friend. That’s all this has been the whole time. I’m sorry if you misunderstood that.”

Castiel stood there mutely, his face tightened in concentration as he turned over Dean’s words. They’re what he’d expected, some rationalization on Dean’s part about how they weren’t dating, when they clearly were. 

“So, is that settled? Are we clear again?” Dean asked, impatient with Castiel’s silence.

“Yes. We are clear.”

“Good. Now let’s get going. I don’t want to miss the previews.”

“No.”

“You said we were clear,” Dean said accusingly.

“We are clear,” Castiel said tightly. “You don’t want to go on dates with me, so I don’t want to hang out with you.”

“Oh my God, you sound like such a girl. You’ve been talking to Sam again, haven’t you?” Dean growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with frustration. He thought he’d beaten all of those Destiel fantasies out of his brother’s head two months ago. Seemed like he was back on track with it again.

“Yes. Sam said I should voice my needs, or else break up with you.”

“You can’t break up with me we’re not even-! God, never mind. Go be girls together and read Cosmo or something. I’m going to the movies to watch manly things exploding.”

Dean stormed out of the motel room, stomped to his car, revved the engine louder than was necessary, and tore out of the motel parking lot with less care than he usually did, probably leaving tire marks on the pavement.

Castiel waited a moment, his body tense with restraint, and then he disappeared, reappearing instantly in the coffee shop where Sam had been hiding for the duration of their talk. Castiel visibly slumped in the seat across from Sam, his features similarly fallen.

“He stormed out,” Castiel said, his voice flat and low. 

“We thought that would happen. Don’t worry. Just wait. He’ll come back later and probably try to wring my neck. You did tell him I was involved, right?”

“He guessed after awhile.”

“OK. Good. Just be patient. You’ve been around for millennia. You can wait a few more days while Dean gets his head out of his ass.”

Castiel just sighed, feeling anxious and doubtful.

~

“You are forbidden from speaking to Cas ever again!” Dean shouted at Sam as soon as he walked into the motel room later that night. He stunk of cigarettes and whisky, and was a little unstable on his feet.

“Dude, I’m not having this conversation with you while you’re drunk. Sleep it off.”

“This is not a conversation; this is an order. No more putting stupid ideas in Cas’ head. He gets confused and then I have to deal with awkward angel feelings all over the place.”

“Me putting ideas in his head? You’re the one that’s been taking him out on chastity dates for the last two months. You’ve been driving him crazy!”

“Hanging out! We were hanging out! God, why is that so hard for everyone to understand?”

“Because you don’t hang out with people who confess being in love with you. It’s called leading them on, and it’s cruel.”

“So now I can’t spend time with him because he’s in love with me? I lose one of my best friends just like that? In what universe is that fair?”

“In the universe we live in, Dean. Nothing’s fair. We make tough choices, and we try to make the best ones. So you need to choose now. Break it off clean with Cas, so he can move on, or just go the whole route and make him happy. I don’t care which one you choose, but do it quickly.”

Dean glared at his brother, with what he hoped was righteous indignation in the face of Sam’s lucid and sober argument. He decided he was way too drunk for the conversation, and ready to worry about it later, because later was a good time to worry about other things.

In the heated silence of their motel room, Dean climbed into bed and went to sleep. Tomorrow was later.

~

When Dean woke up, he stayed in bed, silent and still, to see where Sam was before he got out of bed. Tomorrow wasn’t later enough to have the discussion. He listened carefully, and determined that Sam was not in the room, which was curious, but not too worrying. Sam might be out getting breakfast, or, also not wanting to continue their conversation from the night before. Either option was OK with Dean, so he sat up in bed, stretching and scratching himself. He rubbed the sleep grit from his eyes, looked across the room, and saw Castiel sitting in a chair staring at him.

“Good morning, Dean,” he said, his expression blank and unreadable.

Dean grunted at him and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. There was no way he was going to deal with Castiel with a full bladder. When he stepped out, Castiel was still looking at him, though his expression had changed a little bit, his eyes looked a little bigger. There was a mix of sadness and hope in those eyes. Like that puppy look he’d had when he asked Dean out on their first date. Their only date, Dean insisted to himself.

“Did you talk to Sam again this morning?” Dean asked, dropping into the chair across from Castiel. His voice was rough from sleep, and immediately accusatory.

“No.”

“I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore?” And now he sounds a little hurt.

“I don’t,” Castiel said, and then hesitated. “I do, but I can’t,” he admitted.

“I want us to be friends, Cas. I like hanging out with you. You’re my friend.”

“I know. But this is… confusing for me. And sometimes, it hurts,” Castiel added quietly.

Dean rubbed his face hard, an attempt to refresh himself from the heavy conversation. “I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

“I know,” Castiel said. Because he did know. It didn’t make it hurt less, to be so close to Dean and not be able to touch him. But it was better that Dean hadn’t been deliberately cruel. He hadn’t been ignoring Castiel’s plight. Just oblivious, which he could forgive.

“Would it really be that bad?” Castiel asked after a long silence, while Dean sat there awkward and nervous, unsure what else to say.

“Would what be really that bad?” Dean asked.

“Dating me.”

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean said, rubbing his face again, harder this time. “No. I don’t think it would be that bad. It probably wouldn’t be bad at all. But, you want me to love you, and I don’t. Not like that. You want me to go on dates with you and fall in love, but how are you going to feel when I don’t? You’ll be more hurt than before.”

“I already hurt so much, how could it hurt more?” 

“You’d be surprised,” Dean tried to say lightly, smiling at Castiel’s innocence in the complication of a relationship. Even a relationship like ‘brother’ or ‘friend’ could hurt so much sometimes, when you were close and you cared. ‘Lover’ could hurt a lot, too.

“You’re my best friend, Cas. I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too, but… It is painful for me not to be closer.”

“So that would be it then? We can’t hang out anymore. We can’t just be friends.”

“No,” Castiel said sadly, looking away from Dean.

“What do you want, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, not looking at Castiel, but at his long, thin fingers, splayed on the table between them.

“I want to love you, Dean. I would like you to return that, but mostly, I just want to love you.”

“I can’t promise you anything, Cas. I can’t promise I won’t break away, and run off, and get angry… or just…”

Castiel reached across the table slowly, to where Dean’s hands rested, nervously fluttering about, gripping and twisting at each other. He covered Dean’s hands with his own, slipped his hand between them, twined his fingers with Dean’s thick, callused, scarred fingers. Dean’s hands stilled suddenly, and he looked up at Castiel.

“Just promise that I can love you.”

Dean nodded, and gave Castiel’s fingers a squeeze.

~

Their second real date was definitely better than their first, or even the second fake date, Castiel thought. The routine was similar, with dinner at a diner, followed by a movie. But there were slight changes. At the diner, Castiel sat in the seat next to Dean, and wouldn’t let his hand go until their food arrived, and Dean needed both hands to eat. When their elbows kept bumping together, forcing Dean to smear ketchup on his face, Castiel finally moved to the other side, looking sheepish. But Dean gave him a small smile, albeit a little nervously.

At the movie theater, Dean told Castiel to pick the movie. Castiel had little opinion about movies at all, his only interest before being in watching Dean while he watched movies. He knew which one Dean would want, the action thriller with the ex-marine turned drug-buster. And he also knew which one Dean was dreading, the adorable romantic comedy with a poster lettered in pink. While it would have been fun to torment Dean, he thought it would be better to save it for later. If there was indeed a later, and told Dean he’d like to see the action movie. Dean smiled with relief, and bought the tickets quickly, in case Castiel changed his mind.

Once in the theater, Dean sat down in the back of the theater, whereas usually he preferred the middle, or even closer to the front. Castiel sat down beside him, and again, reached for Dean’s hand, clasping it over the arm rest, their fingers dangling in the cup holder. Dean squirmed for a bit, turning his hand this way and that, confusing Castiel, since in the diner, they’d had no problem. Then, Dean pulled his hand from Castiel’s and he felt a little painful tug in his stomach.

But only for a moment. Dean leaned away, and pushed the arm rest up and out of the way before clasping Castiel’s hand again and then resting it on top of his thigh. Castiel’s heart fluttered hard in his chest, even as Dean muttered “…more comfortable…” under his breath.

Castiel had no idea what happened for the duration of the movie as his eyes were fastened on Dean, going from his face to their clasped hands. Every time the action surged, Dean would drop his hand for a moment, getting into the action himself, but when the music died down, without even looking, his hand found Castiel’s again, gripping it tight for a moment, and then relaxing back into a comfortable clasp.

When the movie ended, they drove back to the motel, in what Castiel thought of as blissful silence. He couldn’t hold Dean’s hand while he was driving, but he watched his hand on the stick, and imagined it on his own.

In the motel parking lot, Dean got out and stood facing Castiel, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Good night, Dean. Thank you for taking me out,” Castiel said, a small, satisfied smile on his lips, and a light of happiness in his eyes. He was certainly happier than at the end of their first date.

“Good night, Cas,” Dean said, and before Castiel was able to fly off, to let Dean get the sleep that he needed every night. He was shocked one last time when Dean leaned in to kiss him.

It was nothing more than the briefest brush of dry lips against his own, and then Dean was back in his own personal space, looking awkward and embarrassed. Castiel just stared at Dean, who after a moment of that, gave the angel a clumsy smile, and then turned to his motel door, and went in.

Castiel stood there for ten more minutes, staring at the door, frozen. Finally, he reached up and touched his lips, just as lightly as Dean had kissed him.

It seemed, he was the happiest angel in all of creation again.

~

Dean had been grateful that Sam was asleep when he got home from his date with Castiel the night before, but he knew he couldn’t avoid his brother forever. At some point, they would need to ‘talk,’ and Dean was dreading it.

When Dean woke up though, Sam didn’t say anything. Nor did he say anything when Dean got out of the shower. Or while they were eating breakfast in the motel room and scanning the papers for jobs around the country. Sam was acting like nothing had happened and it was driving Dean insane.

“Why aren’t you grilling me for details?” Dean snapped after an hour of Sam’s disinterest.

“I respect your privacy too much,” Sam said, his face serene and innocent.

“Bullshit. You talked to Cas already, didn’t you?”

“Before you woke up.”

“What’d he tell you?”

“Cas would never kiss and tell,” Sam said, with a wicked smile and a hard emphasis on the word ‘kiss.’

“You are never going to let me live this down, are you?” Dean said dropping his head on the table.

“After affectionately calling me ‘bitch’ and ‘Samantha’ for years? Don’t even dream of it,” Sam said, a little wickedly. “But before all that, I do want to say that I’m really happy about your decision with Cas.”

“Shut up.”

“And I want you to know that I fully support the two of you.”

“Shut up.”

“And you know, when things progress further between the two of you-“

“Please, stop!”

“-Just put a sock on the door, ok?”

“You really, really are forbidden from speaking to Cas anymore.”

“Hey, did you know there’s some fan fiction that claims through the power of your Destiel love, you can defeat the devil?”

“My life cannot get any gayer.”

“Well, actually…”

“Shut up, Sam!”


	3. Discovering Delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is finally really dating Castiel, but he’s getting frustrated that Castiel won’t let him go all the way.

Dean had gotten over the whole ‘gay’ thing pretty quickly. Not that he was hanging out in gay bars with Castiel, or skipping down the street with him holding hands while they looked at each other adoringly, but he had stopped using the word ‘gay’ in such a derogatory fashion, which had Sam relieved, and the whole hand-holding thing, minus the skipping, was a comfortable intimacy that he found he enjoyed greatly, even when they were in public.

This didn’t mean he actually considered himself gay though. He still caught himself, guiltily, checking out hot babes once in awhile, and when he watched porn (though that is required less and less lately), it was still the hetero kind, or even lesbians. And he certainly wasn’t giving any men a second glance, even if he caught them looking at him. Which, he isn’t sure if he’s giving off some kind of new gay vibe, or he just never noticed getting checked out by men before.

Most importantly, he decided he didn’t care anymore and will just continue loving Castiel, no matter what that made him.

And yes, it was love, he often admitted to himself, and sometimes even to Castiel, which made the angel smile, and warm up, and then smother Dean with affection, love and some inappropriate touching, which Dean no longer found at all inappropriate.

He also realized that a few months ago, as each date he had with Castiel moved further and further, and he let Castiel love him, as he’d requested, and Dean, first awkward in that glow of love, soon came to bask in it, missing it when it was gone, and longing for it. He found the hand holding comfortable, the light kisses warm, the heavier kisses warmer. And finally, he lived up to Castiel’s expectations for him, and he returned the intense love that Castiel had discovered, thanks to a few devoted and perverted fans.

So after Dean kissed Castiel that first time, on their second actually real date, even though it had been the most innocent and chaste of kisses, it had opened a door that he could not, and honestly did not, want to close. 

Which is why after a well-done hunt, he was grinding with an angel in a cheap motel room, with a sock on the outside door handle, groaning and panting from the pressure of the angel squeezed between his thighs, and soaking the inside of his shorts with precum hearing the hot, erotic noises coming out of Castiel’s mouth.

The hot noises, along with Castiel’s hot, wet breath, were puffed out against Dean’s ear as Castiel clung to him, grinding his own erection against Dean’s through their clothing, rutting against him, seeking out that pleasure on top of the hunter. He gasped and panted and sometimes he even mewled, a high whining sound that made Dean’s gut clench and his cock throb, pushing him closer to the edge.

Dean’s hands fumbled around to Castiel’s head, maneuvered him, and claimed his mouth, kissing him hard and wet and hot and swallowing all the noises spilling from his lips. His hands moved lower, skimming over Castiel’s narrow back, burning hot through the thin white dress shirt he still wore. Dean’s hands moved lower, gliding down past the angel’s belt, ghosting over his butt, and then grabbing him. Castiel jerked and gasped into Dean’s mouth. Dean grabbed him again, squeezing the round, tight globes of Castiel’s ass, and then started grinding him, pulling him closer and harder with this leverage.

Castiel keened with delight into Dean’s mouth, pulled back, sought more, grabbed Dean’s lower lip between his teeth and worried it, not too gently, and then finally, his body went stiff and shuddered. His hips jerked a few times, and then slowed, rolling gently against Dean’s hips, against the other man’s still hard cock. He looked up at Dean, catching his eye with a hazy, lusty look, and then licked at Dean’s lower lip, sucking on it gently.

Dean groaned and felt himself go off, his body spasming beneath Castiel’s lighter weight, trying to buck him, even as Dean held him close, unable and unwilling to let him go. Not just yet.

And that was how they spent most of their evenings. And afternoons. Sometimes in the morning, too. And really, anywhere and anytime that Sam wasn’t around to get embarrassed and run out of the room.

In just two months, Dean had shown Castiel all sorts of pleasure and delights that he could feel with his body, with another person. Everything but, that is. Because now Castiel was an ‘everything but virgin,’ meaning, they’d done everything but the last final deed. That last touch of blasphemy and sin that got preempted by some other lewd and delightful trick Dean had learned from his years on the road with waitresses, bartenders, and strippers.

And it wasn’t that Dean didn’t want to go all the way with Castiel. He had already tried a few times, his hands groping around Castiel’s body, getting the angel hot and bothered and needy, kissing him, rubbing his cock, and then sneakily sliding one hand toward the back, sliding down into Castiel’s underwear, getting so far as fingering the tight, warm crease, before his hand was pulled away roughly, and he suddenly had a lap full of blushing and embarrassed angel.

“Not yet,” Castiel would mumble, all awkward and adorable, so Dean couldn’t argue with him. Would instead just kiss Castiel and show him some other way to get off that wasn’t technically sex. It was kind of fun, and certainly was getting Dean’s creative juices flowing, to see just what Castiel would let him do, besides the big and final penetration.

Initially anyway. But after two months, it was getting a little frustrating that he couldn’t have sex with his boyfriend.

~

Each morning, Dean would go into Sam’s motel room so they could meet up for breakfast. After three nights in a row of Sam coming back to their room to find a sock on the doorknob, and getting tired of sleeping in the Impala, Sam had started automatically getting two motel rooms, even when Castiel wasn’t around. This part being because there had also been more than one occasion when Sam had woken up in the night to discover Castiel had suddenly appeared and was doing noisy things with Dean in the bathroom. The fact that they had been considerate enough not to do it in the bed right next to him was apparently not good enough. 

They’d just finished a job the night before, taking out a small family of ghouls, which had led to Dean being slightly injured, Castiel healing him, and then, grateful that Dean was still alive, had pounced on him for that hot and hard humping session on the bed.

Sam was giving Dean the stink eye, which probably meant he’d heard them the night before. Well, that’s what he deserved for getting two rooms next to each other.

“Find any new jobs?” Dean asked, glancing at the newspapers Sam had in one hand, the red marker in his other hand.

“Maybe vampires in Missouri or a haunting in Wyoming. I’m looking for something closer.”

“Mm, yeah. Hey, have you talked to Cas recently?” Dean asked, his eyes glued to the table.

“I’m not allowed to talk to Cas anymore,” Sam said, looking over the top of his paper to give his brother a teasing smile. “Why, is there trouble in paradise? Do you actually want to talk about your feelings?”

Dean fidgeted in his seat. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings. Especially not with Sam. But he did need some sort of outside view. And it’d be really hard to call into the Dr. Drew show and ask about his reticent angel boyfriend. 

“It’s about Cas. He won’t… you know…” Dean made an obscene hand gesture.

“Then what the Hell were you two screaming about last night?” Sam asked, looking put out that his beauty rest had been interrupted by their obnoxiously loud carnal adventures.

“We do… other stuff,” Dean said evasively, not wanting to go into too much graphic detail with his brother.

“That is definitely something you need to talk to Cas about,” Sam said. He turned back to his newspapers. For once, he didn’t want to talk about Dean’s feelings.

Dean made a long suffering groan. The only thing worse than talking about his feelings with Sam, would be talking about his feelings with Castiel. At least Sam was straightforward. Castiel was awkward and didn’t understand anything.

“Can’t you talk to him first? You gave him good advice before.”

“I am not asking an angel of the Lord why he doesn’t want to have buttsex with my brother,” Sam said sternly, giving Dean his best bitchface. 

Dean had to laugh because he made Sam say ‘buttsex’ but it quickly faded when he realized that he was still left having to confront Castiel about the ‘everything but’ virginity thing so that he could finally pop his cherry.

~

Dean had a proper date with Castiel that night, since clean-up and humping after a job didn’t seem to count. He took Castiel out to a slightly nicer than usual restaurant, a small Italian bistro that he had seen on the drive into town. Afterwards, they walked around the bustling downtown area, blatantly holding hands and not caring when the small town locals gave them weird looks. They even found a small ice cream shop, and Dean encouraged Castiel to indulge his sweet tooth with a double scoop of pralines and cream, and rocky road.

With their ice cream finished, Dean having helped Castiel lick melted ice cream off his fingers, they went back to the motel to cap off the evening. In the car, Castiel already looked a little flushed, that tiny touch of tongue on his hands enough to get him started. Dean loved that it didn’t take much to get his angel excited.

Inside the motel room, Castiel slipped out of his trench coat and suit jacket, and then tugged Dean close, locking their lips together immediately. Dean moaned in appreciation as he stumbled them toward the bed. In a tangle of limbs, they sprawled out on the bed, Castiel underneath while they continued making out, the hungry, needy noises they made blending together.

Dean’s hands went to Castiel’s white shirt, carefully tugging the buttons out one by one, slowly exposing Castiel’s milky white skin to his hands. Castiel moaned into Dean’s mouth as his chest was rubbed and caressed, his nipples plucked to stiffness by Dean’s callused fingers.

There was a ruffle of movement as Castiel sat up to pull his shirt off his shoulders, and then he reached for the hem of Dean’s t-shirt and tugged it up. Before it was even free of Dean’s arms, Castiel had latched his mouth to Dean’s chest, mouthing him hungrily as his hands grazed over Dean’s ribs.

Heat swelled it Dean’s groin, making his jeans tight. He rolled his hips, pressing himself against Castiel’s belly. Castiel shuddered beneath him and pushed Dean back so he could climb on top of him, fitting their hips together perfectly so that Dean could feel Castiel’s matching erection.

Dean groaned, loving when Castiel pushed him back and climbed on top of him, eager and hungry for pleasure, grinding himself against Dean’s body and making them both groan hotly. Dean reached behind, grabbing Castiel’s ass, and squeezed him, pulled him closer, made him gasp with delirious pleasure as the sensations grew stronger between them.

“Can I?” Dean asked in a husky whisper, his hands sliding to the front, to the button of Castiel’s pants. Castiel bit his lip, his cheeks bright red, and nodded once, quickly. But his timidity was overshadowed as his hands mirrored Dean’s. Together, they undid each other pants, peeled them down, just enough, pushed aside the barrier of underwear, one pair of boxers, one pair of briefs, and pulled out the other’s cock, each hard, swollen, red and dripping with excitement.

By touch, Dean rubbed their cocks together, while his eyes were fastened on Castiel’s face as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, as he came apart under its onslaught. Dean wrapped his hand around both of them, jerking slowly, while Castiel moved above them, thrusting into Dean’s hand, rubbing them together, making them a sticky mess.

“Beautiful,” Dean groaned, and he reached up to touch Castiel’s face, to graze his fingers over the angel’s parted lips. Castiel’s eyes slid open, hazy and lust-filled, and then he sucked Dean’s finger into his mouth, licking it, sucking it, nipping it gently.

Dean groaned and his hips bucked up under Castiel’s weight, rocking them harder together. Castiel let out a whimper as Dean’s thumb slid over his sensitive tip, and then a series of low cries as Dean did it again and again, with a wicked smile. 

“Dean… soon…” Castiel gasped, his hips moving faster.

“Not yet, Cas,” Dean said, pulling his hand away from their cocks with a grin, sliding his hands over Castiel’s hips, feeling him surge and roll.

“Dean,” Castiel growled, his voice going deep and dangerous as the stimulation stopped. He ground his hips harder against Dean’s, to make his disappointment clear.

“Don’t growl. I won’t leave you hangin’,” Dean said with a lusty smile. His hands slid further back, along the loosened waist-band of Castiel’s slacks, and then dipped into the back, finding the small crease between Castiel’s cheeks.

Castiel went stiff above him, sitting up, and reached behind him to clasp Dean’s hands. His face was blushing and bewildered.

“Not… not yet…” he mumbled, pulling Dean’s hands away. Now, his eyes were everywhere else but on Dean. Dean leaned up to kiss him, force his face forward again. 

“Hey, Cas, c’mon,” Dean murmured against his lips. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his hands slipping from Castiel’s and going again to the back of his pants, though he didn’t reach inside.

“I know,” Castiel stammered out, blushing hotly, barely able to meet Dean’s gaze. “But I’m not ready…”

“Not ready?” Dean said with a small laugh. “You feel ready to me.” Dean gripped Castiel’s cock and gave it a light squeeze, making Castiel gasp with pleasure, his eyes sliding shut again.

“Don’t. You’re trying to distract me,” Castiel said breathlessly, pulling Dean’s hand away. “Can’t we just…?” Castiel let the words drift off as he rolled his hips against Dean, their cocks bumping against each other again deliciously.

Dean groaned, about to give in, but realized Castiel was just doing the same thing to him, so he grabbed the angel’s hips and held him still.

“Cas, we’ve done everything, and I mean everything, else besides that. What’s the hold up? Afraid to lose your angel purity ring or something?”

“I’m not afraid,” Castiel insisted, his jaw jutting out.

“Then let’s go!” Dean said and he pushed Castiel back onto the bed, maneuvering between his legs and tugging playfully on Castiel’s pants.

“No!” Castiel said, and then there was the sound of fluttering wings and Castiel was no longer in the bed. Dean looked around and saw him standing on the other side of the room, holding up his pants with his hands and looking incredibly embarrassed. 

“Cas,” Dean growled. “Do we need to talk about something?”

“No,” Castiel said, looking anxious, and still, anywhere but at Dean.

Dean sighed and got off of the bed, adjusting his pants and ignoring his erection that was still raging, even though his lover had literally run away in the middle of trying to have sex.

“Cas. There is some kind of problem here. Are you scared? Do you want to be the top? Do I have bad breath?” Dean stepped closer with each question, keeping his voice gentle in the face of Castiel’s anxious expression. Castiel even had a little pout on his lips, clearly distraught.

“No…I’m not… you don’t…. I can’t talk about this…” Castiel said, and in a blink, he was gone, leaving Dean frustrated and annoyed and in need of a very long, and very cold shower. 

~

“You need to talk to Cas,” Dean said without preamble as he stormed into Sam’s room the next morning.

“Again, not talking to an angel about buttsex. That’s your job.”

“I tried. He ran away.”

“He ran away?”

“Yes. Literally in the middle of the talk. He flew off and he’s ignoring my calls.”

“You totally fail at talking about feelings.”

“Thank God I have a little sister to help me.”

Sam groaned, a prediction of his future suffering. “You are going to owe me for this so hard. I’m talking putting my ipod back in the Impala. I pick the jobs. I decide where we eat. For a month.”

Dean cringed at the thought of Sam’s ipod tacked to his baby’s dash again, squealing out Sam’s bitch music for a full month, but nodded in agreement because it was the only way he could see to get some clear information about what was going on with Castiel.

~

“Cas? I need some help with an Enochian translation,” Sam called out to the ceiling. He always felt kind of awkward and foolish when talking to mid-air, but the results were usually good.

“That’s not Enochian,” Castiel said, appearing right next to Sam and looking at the sheet of paper in his hands, which was clearly in Latin.

“It’s not? Oh, silly me. Well, since you’re here, let’s talk about you and Dean.”

“What about Dean and I?” Castiel asked, his eyes instantly looking spooked and wary.

“You know exactly what. He tried to talk about it with you last night, but you flew off? Cas, you’re an angel. What could possibly make you run away from your boyfriend?”

“He said I wasn’t allowed to talk about it anymore…”

“Talk about what?”

“The fanfiction…”

Sam groaned. He knew he should have asked for more when bargaining with Dean. “What about the fanfiction?” he asked with a pained sigh.

“In the stories…” Castiel fidgeted, clearly as uncomfortable as Sam. “The sex is always so… amazing. Everything is perfect. And Dean and I are perfect for each other. And I’m worried… I’m worried it won’t be like that and Dean will be disappointed.”

“Dean’s not going to be disappointed,” Sam said reassuringly. “He loves you.”

“But what if I’m terrible? What if I’m not tight enough, or I’m too tight and I hurt him? Or if I don’t make the right sounds? Or I orgasm too soon and he is not finished?”

And then it was Sam’s turn to burn incredibly red and get uncomfortable from the rush of words spilling from Castiel’s lips. “You… You really should talk about this with Dean.”

“I don’t know how to say the right words,” he said sadly, and then looked to Sam with wide, honest hope in his eyes. “Will you talk to him for me?” Castiel asked him, looking sad and lost, but Sam was not going to fall for it.

“I draw the line at hooking my brother up for gay, blasphemous angel love. I’m not going to talk to him about the sex acts that are involved. You’re going to have to talk to him yourself.”

Castiel nodded, but not without a determined and well put-upon pout on his lips.

~

Castiel appeared in Dean’s room that night, after he’d had some time to think about how he was going to talk about this with Dean without dying of shame and embarrassment.

Dean was waiting for him on the bed. After a briefing with Sam, he knew a little bit of what to expect, but his brother had turned red when he asked for details and refused to give him any more information, aside from it being a ‘fanfiction’ thing. Dean was kind of worried about that, and let his mind wander to the worst scenarios he could think of. That way, he’d probably be relieved when Castiel finally confessed to whatever was bugging him.

“C’mere,” he said to Castiel, and patted a space on the bed next to him. Castiel obeyed and sat next to Dean, stiffly at first until Dean wrapped him in his arms, pressing Castiel’s back up against his chest, and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it and tugging it gently. Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut from the soft, intimate touch.

“You know I love you, right?” Dean murmured into his ear.

“Yes. I remember.”

“Then you know you can tell me anything. If we have a problem, we can fix it together, right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I have caused you trouble.”

“No worries. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s… really quite stupid,” Castiel said, glad he wasn’t looking at Dean so he wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Then it’ll be easy to fix. C’mon babe, spill it,” Dean urged gently.

“It’s about all those stories I read, about us. I don’t know if I can compare.”

Dean frowned at the memory of the Destiel fanfiction. Though it had brought them together, the thought of weird young women writing about his love life, in freakish detail, would always disturb him. Especially with some of the weird kinks they got into. 

“Cas,” Dean whispered, right into Castiel’s ear. “You will never compare to those stories.”

Castiel’s face fell, and he drew deeper into himself. 

“You will never compare to those stories, because you are better than any piece of fiction ever written. You’re alive, and warm, and you’re all mine. Those stupid stories could never measure up to what you’re capable of.”

Castiel turned around to face Dean. “How can you be so sure? What if I’m terrible?”

“Seriously, Cas? Nothing you do is terrible. Why would sex be any different?”

Castiel made a low, keening sound in his throat, and then pressed his lips to Dean’s, and after another moment, pushed Dean down against the bed, his kisses quickly becoming hotter and hungrier. Dean was so not about to complain.

Dean rolled them over and over on the bed, tugging at various pieces of clothing, his and Castiel’s, and fending off kisses so he could think straight long enough to figure out his damn belt buckle. Buttons were ripped off, and there was the sound of ripping cloth, but Dean wasn’t sure whose clothes it was, and he didn’t care, as the last shred of it fluttered to the floor and he had Castiel naked in his bed, flushed and aroused, and finally eager for Dean. All the way.

“Cas, you are so gorgeous,” Dean said huskily, and smiled as Castiel flushed and shook beneath him, a jumble of nerves and excitement.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Castiel said, and Dean brushed off the apology with a quick press of lips to quiet him.

“Don’t worry. We’ll make up the lost time.”

Dean struggled to keep his movements slow and careful, simultaneously wanting to savor the moment, and also wanting to get to it quickly, after such an agonizing wait. But he took his time, leery of scaring off his skittish boyfriend again if he went too fast.

Tentatively, Dean reached between Castiel’s legs, his fingers wet with lube, and pressed between his cheeks, fingering the tight bud gently. Castiel bucked beneath him, his body going tight, and the breath gusting out past his lips. He looked up to Dean with wide eyes, biting his bottom lip, but he nodded. Encouraged Dean to continue.

Dean stretched Castiel carefully, savoring the looks that flitted across Castiel’s face as he was stretched and probed deep inside, leaned in to listen to the soft cries and wails of pleasure that breached his lips. And as hot and hungry as Castiel was getting from Dean’s fingers, Dean felt the same, feeling his tight clench, knowing what would soon be his.

“Dean, please,” Castiel whispered, canting his hips up, his body knowing what to ask for, even if he couldn’t find the words.

Dean nodded, smeared more lubricant on himself, and nudged gently between Castiel’s legs, rubbing the tip against the loosened hole before pushing in slowly. They gasped together, eyes locked tight as Dean sank in deeper, finding Castiel tight and hot.

A steady rhythm started, one that Dean knew well from experience, and Castiel followed on instinct, letting his hips roll against Dean’s, surging against him to find the right angle and crying out each time they hit it perfectly.

As they neared the peak, they moved faster, more frantic, Castiel clutching at Dean’s shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist, trying to hold onto something as he was pushed higher and higher, closer and closer to his pleasure, a sort of tight, condensed heat that he had come close to before, but wasn’t the same, not now with Dean so deep inside him, and with his pleasure so dependent on the movement of the other man.

Castiel reached his orgasm with a low, rumbling moan, which gave way to another, higher, surprised sound as Dean spilled inside him, a sensation he hadn’t considered much before, but that added an extra surge of sensation and pleasure. He clung to Dean, dizzy, hot, with his skin thrumming and sensitive. Every little shift Dean made, forced him to twitch, overwhelmed. Dean caught those twitches, those shakes and jerks, and smiled down at his lover, looking pleased with himself.

“You feeling OK, babe?” he asked gently, his voice rough from his earlier grunts and groans.

“Yeah,” Castiel let out on a breathy sigh. 

“Are you sore at all?” Dean asked, and pulled out gently, watching his semen leaking from between Castiel’s cheeks, pleased from the sight of it, like the mark of a job well done.

“No. You can’t hurt me, Dean.”

“Good. You feeling OK too? Now that you’re not even technically a virgin anymore?”

“I feel OK,” Castiel said, with a little blush. “I feel silly for my earlier concerns.”

“Ah yes, so, how do I compare to fanfiction Dean?”

Castiel was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he considered the perfect words. “While those women have a good grasp of our emotions and perceived dialogue, I must say, that their ability to describe the true sensation of sexual intercourse with you is incredibly lacking.”

“Why, I think that’s the nicest way anyone’s ever said I’m a good lay.”

“You were amazing. Wonderful. Delightful. Perfect,” Castiel went on, showering Dean with small kisses for each word.

“Perfect? Not yet. But I’m willing to practice a lot more until we get there.”

“I would like that very much.”

Dean tumbled Castiel a few more times, just to make doubly sure that his boyfriend was not a virgin anymore. And before nodding off, he exacted a very binding promise from Castiel that there would never be anymore Destiel fanfiction in their lives ever again. Castiel agreed, because why would he need fanfiction anymore when he could finally act out his very own Destiel fantasies?


End file.
